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Tag Archives: getting out of the house

Who’d of thunk it?

I’m beginning to realize that I’m a person who could benefit mentally, not just physically, from getting to the gym on a consistent basis. I’m sure that any fitness specialist, doctor, gym rat, etc. would say, “duh” to my revelation, but even so, it still is a revelation for me.

All throughout school, I loathed gym class. I wasn’t good at anything, and failed almost every part of the Presidential fitness test. (I totally rocked the sit and reach, for what it’s worth.) Every year having a reminder that I failed at gym, even if I didn’t get a failing grade on my report card, well, yeah. Then I went to college and a friend of mine and I decided for some reason it would be a good idea to be gym buddies. We’d go to the gym together I don’t remember how often, but I don’t remember it being a thing that made my life significantly different or better. Since leaving college, I’ve had a few stints of getting to the gym on a semi-regular basis, but don’t remember any significant feeling of “wow, when I get to the gym I feel way better than if I miss a week”.

Last week I didn’t get to the gym at all. First there was a lot of snow, then there was a lot of laziness. I felt like poo by the beginning of this week. Yesterday, I probably could have gone on a murderous rampage from feeling so much like poo. Not physical poo, mentally, like I couldn’t stop being angry or frustrated or annoyed or any of those things. Last night, I decided that I had to get back to the gym because it couldn’t hurt, right? This morning, even though I hadn’t been there yet, I felt more calm. Now that I’ve gone, I feel a zillion times better, calmer, less irritated by insignificant things.

I’m thinking back to that quote from Legally Blonde, “Exercise gives you endorphins. Endorphins make you happy. Happy people just don’t shoot their husbands. They just don’t.” Exactly, Elle Woods. Exactly.

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Posted by on January 30, 2014 in mama

 

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Not a morning person

So many exercise advice lists say you should get to the gym or exercise in some way first thing in the morning. For the most part, this advice is aimed at people who get up at the same time every day for work, but it can work for other people who don’t have such regular schedules. Whenever I read these types of articles or lists of how to stick with an exercise plan or whatever, I think it makes sense to get your exercise done first thing, shower then you’re ready for the day.

Here’s my problem with implementing that strategy. The few times I’ve been to the gym recently, I’ve noticed something about myself. The days I get to the gym some time in the afternoon, exercising feels good. I can push myself and I’m tired when I’m done, but it’s for the most part a positive experience. The past two Saturday mornings that I’ve woken up and gone right to the gym have felt horrible. My workout is hard and I’ve felt wiped out after both, rather than the strange tired yet energized that I usually feel.

I’m not saying I’m giving up on the idea of exercising first thing in the morning, but at least for now, it’s not for me. I have to wake myself up earlier so I can be awake a bit before getting to the gym. To be honest, this isn’t a new thing for me. When I was in nursing school and had to be at a clinical site very early in the morning, I woke myself up that much earlier so I would be awake enough before I would be able to eat some breakfast before clinical. Even when I worked at Starbucks and opened the store very early in the morning, I would not have been able to help customers right away. It took the half hour or so of doing the opening tasks before the store opened for me to mentally wake up enough to be pleasant to customers.

I have this history of not doing well right when I wake up, so it shouldn’t surprise me that getting to the gym first thing isn’t ideal. I guess this is just a long, drawn out way of saying that week 3 day 1 of couch to 5k, which pushed the running time up to 3 minutes, kicked my ass.

 
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Posted by on January 18, 2014 in mama

 

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First trip to the gym of 2014

It’s already the 9th of January, but I finally went to the gym for the first time this year. I even gave Grace at least five times to say she didn’t want to go, but alas I could not use her as an excuse not to get to the gym. It helps that both she and Charlotte love the kid zone at the Ambler Y, so she was pretty excited to go. I didn’t feel like I wanted to or had to start over at the beginning of couch 2 5k, so I started with what I’d done last, which was day 1 of week 2 (alternate 90 seconds of jogging and 2 minutes of walking for 20 minutes). Here is a list of unorganized thoughts that I had while doing the work out and since:

*it took us longer to get dressed, shoes on, jackets on and into the car than we were at the Y, but we got there so whatever

*running with no music is a complete fail, but Caravan Palace pandora channel is a win

*I was really tempted to compare what the treadmill said were my calories burned to food in some way, but then I said screw it. I’m trying to eat what I want (as in, what I really want to be eating, not just eating all the junk food), not what I think I should be eating, so no.

*We didn’t have time to get to the pool after I did my workout, so we’re thinking of going again tomorrow. That won’t kill me, right? Right. Right…

*I’ve had a shower three days in a row. It’s like I’m on vacation or something.

So there you go. I went to the gym one time. Woo.

 
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Posted by on January 9, 2014 in mama

 

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The epic meltdown of the century

Ever since my adorable, tiny baby was born, I’ve been looking forward to when we could get back to our previous schedule of frequent outings. Well, not ever since, since for at least a few days to a week I was quite enjoying just sitting around having a normal breastfeeding relationship with my new baby. It wasn’t before long, though, that I realized that my ability to remain calm in the face of my toddler’s inability to remain calm hinged on our ability to get her the hell out of the house. Having a newborn who eats on a regular schedule of all the time put a damper on my ability to go anywhere where I wasn’t just sitting right back down and feeding her again. (Another hindrance in our leaving the house was the factor of how inordinately hot it’s been this summer and my inability to survive and parent when it’s inordinately hot.)

When adorable, tiny newborn was about a month old, after a couple of weeks of increasing tension from seeing only each other all day, every day, the three of us went for a walk to the playground. It went fairly well. Newborn (C) slept in the Ergobaby or nursed almost the entire time. Toddler (G) played with “her friends”, aka kids she just met. There were a few less than optimal aspects to our trip. I should’ve brought the stroller at least for the walk home. I should’ve brought the water bottle. I couldn’t have done anything differently when it came time to leave and C started crying just as G was running away, crying that she didn’t want to leave.

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Posted by on August 13, 2012 in mama

 

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